


Returning to Roost; On the Avian-Adjacent Adjustment Period by Professor Venomous, PhD (or How to Properly Care for Your Boxman: A Love Story)

by anonymousEDward



Category: OK K.O.! Let's Be Heroes
Genre: (alcohol consumption but no intoxication), Anal Sex, Double Penetration, Fingering, Food Kink, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Non-Human Genitalia, Riding, Table Sex, post Boxman Crashes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:21:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22234762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymousEDward/pseuds/anonymousEDward
Summary: Boxman exhibits some worrying behavior after his triumphant return to Boxmore. Professor Venomous is determined to get to the bottom of it!
Relationships: Lord Boxman/Professor Venomous
Comments: 38
Kudos: 145





	Returning to Roost; On the Avian-Adjacent Adjustment Period by Professor Venomous, PhD (or How to Properly Care for Your Boxman: A Love Story)

Out of all of them, Venomous would have assumed Fink would have the most difficulty adjusting to life at Boxmore. Venomous was older, after all, and had gone through several upheavals - from foster care to POINT to villainy. Fink was younger and, despite her insistence otherwise, was much more delicate than she let on.

He had not expected Boxman, of all people, to be the one struggling the most.

Box put on a good show, of course. He was more productive than he'd ever been in the early days of their partnership, but little things gave him away.

The first thing Venomous had noticed was the feathers.

**FEATHERS**

_Four Weeks Ago, Professor Venomous's Lair_

Venomous woke to the sound of pounding on his door. Whatever it was, it had better be important to justify waking him before noon. He stumbled out of bed, already mourning the loss of warmth, and opened the door. A green blur rushed past him. Before he could even process what he was seeing, the door to the master bathroom had slammed shut.

"...Fink?"

He heard the toilet flush and the running of the sink.

"Use soap, Fink."

"Rrrrrr..."

He heard the sink run again, slightly longer this time.

The door opened at last.

"Well? Care to explain what that was about?" He said in his most unimpressed tone. Fink winced like he'd yelled.

"But- but-" she clasped her paws together, widening her eyes to something devastatingly adorable, "but Boss, I really had to go!" she cried. "That Stink Man was taking forever! My bladder was gonna explode!"

Venomous sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knelt down to put himself more or less on her level.

"He was probably showering, Fink. It's not that unusual." He paused, then frowned at her. "And he is not a Stink Man, Fink. We've talked about this."

"Was not!" Fink insisted. "There wasn't any water running! And I didn't hear him banging around in there either!"

That was slightly more worrisome.

"I'll go check on him. Go eat some breakfast, but don't think this means you don't have to brush your teeth later this morning."

Her ears twitched. "Whatever you say, Boss!" She chirped, clearly hoping he'd forget.

Venomous sighed and made his way to the guest bathroom. He knocked on the door - gently, not the obnoxious hammering he'd woken up to. "Box. Everything alright in there?"

Nothing.

Perhaps he'd fallen asleep on the toilet?

Venomous whipped out a diamond credit card, sliding it into the crack to pry open the simple lock.

"I'm coming in," Venomous warned, slowly opening the door.

Of all the things he had expected, it was not this. Boxman was perched on the edge of the sink, craning his neck backwards to look over at the mirror. He had Venomous's headphones on and was bobbing his head to what sounded like one of his old Chromatica albums. Venomous watched as Boxman carefully pinched one of the feathers on the back of his arm, dragging his fingers down the length of it. He dipped his hand into the sink, which appeared to be full of warm soapy water - dish soap, going by the bottle - and repeating the process until the feather was sleek and shiny.

He was preening, Venomous realized. It was odd, but he'd sort of forgotten that Boxman was avian-adjacent. He had never really processed what all went into that. Did he molt? Did he have a preening gland? Did he have a clo- wait, no! Bad Venomous, he chided himself.

Still, he'd never seen Boxman so methodical before. Dip, pinch, drag, repeat. It was almost hypnotic. Seeing him like this, his brow furrowed in concentration...

Venomous felt a strange sort of fascination. Platonic fascination, of course. Perhaps more of professional curiosity.

Boxman really did have such _dexterous_ fingers, he noted.

It occurred to him that he had been gawking for several minutes longer than was socially acceptable and he cleared his throat loudly.

Nothing.

"Boxman. Boxman!"

At last, Boxman reacted, looking up. Their eyes met.

Boxman startled, falling off the sink with a loud squawk. Naturally, taking the detergent with him.

At the time, Venomous had yelled at him for the mess, more embarrassed at himself for staring than he was angry at Boxman - he wasn't the most rational in the mornings.

_Four Days Ago, Voxmore Industries_

Professor Venomous just barely caught the door to the workshop with his foot while simultaneously diving out of the way of Ernesto 2913 as he scuttled out of the room, scouring a clipboard. Venomous debated following for a moment - the bot usually wasn't quite that oblivious to his surroundings - when he was distracted by quiet cursing from inside the workshop. Venomous tucked the files against his chest, carefully opening the door further with his free hand.

Boxman held an electronic pen in his avian hand, his human hand buried in the feathers of his arm. He appeared to be preening while working, a little mason jar of oil sitting on the table nearby.

This was not, he noticed, the careful preening from before.

The feathers, to Venomous's keen eyes, looked ragged, almost patchy in places. Boxman raked his fingers through them like claws, occasionally pinching and tugging a feather free with a little growl. The plucked feathers did appear damaged, but more from the aggressive preening than natural wear.

Perhaps he was preparing to molt?

Boxman mumbled to himself again - something about resistance and surges – before scribbling on the data pad.

"Box?" Venomous asked, keeping his tone low and smooth to avoid startling the man.

"Wha- oh! PV!" Boxman spun around, tugging his sleeve down. "Howdy, partner of mine!"

Venomous allowed a small smile to form on his lips. "Hey, Boxy. What are you working on?"

"Oh, just messing around with Mikayla's structure a bit! She'd mentioned something about bipedal options, but I'm a little worried about her paneling and..." he trailed off with a sheepish grin. "Guess I'm, hehe, rambling a little bit, aren't I?"

Venomous stepped further into the room, putting a little extra strut into his step just so he could see the way Boxman's eyes followed the slight sway of his hips. Venomous didn't have the muscle and classic good looks he'd once had as Laserblast, but he knew how to work with what he did have.

Venomous leaned his hip against the table, casually setting down the files and "accidentally" brushing Boxman's wrist with his fingertips.

Boxman blushed furiously, averting his gaze.

"It's alright, Boxy," Venomous purred. "I like hearing you ramble."

"Hahaha..." Boxman laughed nervously. "Good one, Professor! Anyway, what can I do for you?"

Damn. How had Venomous's flirting game gotten so bad? Maybe it was best to quit while he was ahead - at least for now. There had to be some books on the subject, right? He was a scientist, he knew how to research.

Boxman was still waiting for an answer. He mentally scrambled for something to say.

"Doing some preening, hm?" Venomous said. He picked up the bottle, examining the label. _Dirty Bird Preening Oil Replacement_ , it said in large block letters. Below, in a smaller font, _For Hard-Working Avian-Adjacents Who Get Their Hands Dirty!_

The jar was snatched from him with surprising speed.

"Eh... heh. Just, ah. Getting out the _grime_ you know?" His smile appeared a little strained to Venomous's critical eye.

Venomous hummed noncommittally.

Boxman's smile became something more akin to a grimace. "I just. _Hate. Filth._ Heh. I mean, hard to imagine I was living out of a trash can just last month, right?"

Venomous put a hand on his shoulder.

"Not anymore, though, Boxy. You're home now."

"Yup!" Boxman chirped. "It's good to be back."

Venomous left feeling somewhat reassured, but some instinct in his reptilian brain told him it wasn't over.

**OVERWORK**

_Four Weeks Ago, Professor Venomous's Lair_

"Boss, it can't be bedtime yet!" Fink cried, tugging on the lapels to his coat as he carried her to her room. "You were supposed to play my new videos game with me!"

"I'm sorrey, Fink," Venomous sighed, "I got caught up with work. Tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah. _Sure._ " He'd never heard her sound quite so bitter before. She squirmed out of his grip, crawling into her coconut bed and pulling the blanket over her head.

"Good night, Fink," Venomous said softly.

Fink didn't respond, just turned away, clearly still upset with him. Venomous hated when she was disappointed in him. It had happened often enough at POINT that he would have assumed he'd be used to it by now, but every time his minion was upset with him, the guilt came back in full force. He'd have to buy her more presents tomorrow until her temperament sweetened.

He spied Boxman peering at him over the back of the sofa as he made his way to his own bed. Venomous was sure he was about to get force fed some patented Boxman Advice™, but Boxman remained mercifully silent.

"Goodnight, Box," Venomous said finally.

"Night, PV."

He woke up a few hours later. He wasn't sure what, exactly, woke him, but some instinct drove him from the bed. He pulled on a bathrobe and padded out of his room. From the flickering lights down the hall, the television was on. He crept closer, peeking around the corner.

"Take that, Boxbutt!" Fink said in a loud whisper, sticking her tongue out at Boxman. She was still wearing her pajamas, her hair the usual rat's nest it was when she first woke up.

Boxman swore under his breath, fiddling with the contraption in his hands until the course of his on-screen race car corrected.

"Laugh all you want, but I'm not out of the race yet, Stink!" He hissed, a vicious smile on his face.

Venomous cleared his throat, watching them both startle.

"And what are you two doing up at..." He made a show of checking his phone- "1:03 in the morning?"

Boxman and Fink wore matching expressions of chagrin. It was unfairly adorable, really, making him feel uncharacteristically soft.

"Well- It's- It's important to keep promises, PV!" Boxman said, nearly dropping the controller as he flailed his arms. "You said you'd play it with her, but then you didn't and she was sad, so I-"

Venomous plopped down on the couch between them.

"You're right. I shouldn't have let myself get caught up in work like that. I should have made time like I said I would."

"R-really?" Fink stared at him, wide-eyed. "Do you really mean it, boss?"

Even while looking at her, he could feel Boxman's eyes on him. Tempting as it was to change his mind or take it out on the other villain...

"Yes, I do," Venomous said, ruffling her hair the way she claimed to hate, and smiling when she leaned into it. "Now finish up this race with Boxman. I'm sure I'll have the controls all figured out by then."

"Whatever you say, boss!" Fink said with an evil grin.

Boxman, ever the villain, had unpaused the game while she was still distracted, but even that wasn't enough of an advantage to secure him victory.

Venomous had laughed at him alongside his minion - right up until he lost himself.

They stayed up until sunrise, all three of them, and while Venomous hadn't gotten noticeably better by the end, he still remembered the night fondly.

_Three Days Ago, Voxmore Industries_

Venomous shifted in the theater seat, checking his watch.

"Can't we just watch it without him?" Fink whined.

"No, Fink," Venomous said. Well, he supposed they _could,_ but he didn't want to. "I reminded him about movie night just this morning. He's probably on his way now." Cob, Venomous hoped so. Not that he was particularly looking forward to "Mastermind", of course. It was just a children's movie, after all. But he had purchased gourmet popcorn and candy, which was currently residing next to him in the seat he was saving for Boxman. Last week, Venomous had been the one running late, so he hadn't had the opportunity to sit next to Boxman - which was why, this time, he'd arrived half an hour early, snacks in tow. Perhaps he could place the bag between them, "accidentally" brush Boxman's fingers with his own from time to time as they enjoyed the treat. Maybe, if he was feeling particularly brave (or Boxman appeared particularly distracted), he would try the old "stretch to arm-around-the-shoulder" trick.

"It's a long walk from the factory floor," Venomous continued, "but I'm sure that-"

"Dad hasn't left his workshop," Darrell interrupted. He tapped his braincase with one metallic finger. "I just checked. He said he's busy with work." The bot pouted, then brightened, a sharp-toothed smile spreading across his face. "He said we could still watch it without him, though!"

Venomous felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

 _Is this what it feels like to be stood up?_ The thought sent another tendril of anxiety through his gut.

"Just..." Venomous pinched the bridge of his nose. "Go ahead and start the movie. I'll be back with Boxman shortly."

He heard Fink grumble something uncomplimentary under her breath as he stood and made his way to the door. At the last second he looked over his shoulder. "Do _not_ eat my snacks."

Seven sets of eyes stared innocently back at him.

He suspected they would not last five minutes.

Venomous strode through the halls of the factory, already working out what to say.

Would anger help cow Boxman into submission? Unlikely - Boxman didn't seem particularly frightened by him, even when he was drooling venom and rattling his tail. Normally, Venomous actually quite liked that about him, but it would make getting his way much more difficult.

Fink usually played on Venomous's sympathies to pull him from his work, but he wasn't so sure it would be as effective when directed at Boxy, coming from him. Boxman seemed to hold some regard for him, though, so maybe-

He was already at the door to the workshop.

Professor Venomous took a steadying breath and opened the door.

"Darrell, for the last time- oh!" Boxman's tone went low and growling to nearly a squeak when his eyes found Venomous.

"It's not Darrell," Venomous said, immediately wanting to smack himself for saying something so obvious and banal.

"I. Yes, well." Boxman fidgeted, raking his fingers through his feathers nervously. "Is the movie already over?" He _did_ sound disappointed, at least, which was somewhat mollifying.

"I told them to go ahead and start it without us," Venomous said, "while I came to collect you."

"Collect-! PV, I can't- Our numbers are-"

Venomous put a hand on Boxman's wrist, guiding his human hand away from his avian arm before he plucked more feathers in his distraction. His arm looked patchy and sore enough as it was. He laid his other hand over those dangerous talons he so admired, stroking his thumb over Boxman's knuckles.

"Boxy," he said, keeping his tone soft and soothing. "There's no Board of Directors to impress, now. There's only me. And I respect your drive and the quality of your product _far_ too much to allow you to overwork yourself like this." Venomous wasn't sure where these words were coming from, but they felt good and right - the perfectly precise balance of emotional manipulation and sincerity.

"But... but I could have these upgrades to Jethro-"

Venomous put a finger to Boxman's lips, trying not to imagine what they would feel like against other portions of his anatomy. Boxman's mismatched eyes were wide and shining, and Venomous could feel the heat of his breath against his finger. Venomous leaned in, just barely, almost swaying forward like Boxman had his own gravitational field.

"It's just movie night," Boxman mumbled. Feeling his lips moving against his skin sent a shiver of heat down Venomous's spine.

"But I want you there," Venomous murmured, surprised at how low and smooth his own voice had gotten.

For a moment, he thought he saw Boxman's cheeks darken on a faint blush, saw Boxman lean in just a millimeter... and then he was stepping out of reach, his usual grin on his face.

"Welp! We should, ah, get going then, right PV? Don't want to miss it!"

Venomous smiled faintly, already missing his warmth. "Yes. We should go."

**DISORDERED SLEEP**

_Four Weeks Ago, Professor Venomous's Lair_

"PV..."

Venomous grumbled in his sleep, even as the hands on his shoulders shook him awake.

"What, Boxman?" He gritted out. He straightened, grimacing as his back popped in two places.

"You fell asleep at your desk," Boxman said helpfully.

Venomous blinked, looking around. Boxman was right. He was still seated in his desk chair and, judging from the 300 page document he had open, he had fallen asleep on his keyboard.

Venomous tried to subtly check his face, feigning a yawn - those were definitely keyboard imprints on his face. Absolutely mortifying.

"Maybe you should go to bed, PV," Boxman said with a gentle grin. The hands on his shoulders squeezed once in a soothing way before Boxman released him.

Venomous debated arguing, but his eyelids were so heavy that he wasn't sure he could stay awake long enough to even undo the mess he'd made of the document, let alone finish it.

"Fine," Venomous said. His back muscles protested when he stood. He could only imagine the pain he would have been in if he'd slept like this until morning.

"You work too hard," Boxman said. "See, this is why I use robots! They don't need to sleep! Well, other than recharging... And they do _like_ sleeping... It's such a small thing, but it makes them happy. But! I just build more robots and have them take shifts! An easy fix!"

Venomous nodded along as Boxman gently ushered him to his bedroom, his babbling a soothing sort of white noise for Venomous's sleep-fogged brain.

He opened the door and stumbled inside, vaguely surprised when Boxman didn't follow him past the doorway.

"Good night, Professor!" Boxman cooed, already closing the door.

"Mm, night." The door clicked shut. Even as he stripped off his boots, Venomous found himself smiling. Maybe having Boxman around for a few days wouldn't be so bad.

_Two Days Ago, Voxmore Industries_

Venomous looked up from the oily concoction he was preparing.

"Alright, Darrell. What are these concerns of yours?"

The robot honest to Cob shuffled his feet, his hands clasped behind his back.

Venomous sighed, putting down his equipment. "I promise, I'm listening and I'll take your concerns seriously."

"Wellll I..." Darrell trailed off before, in a sudden rush, blurting out, "I'm worried about dad."

 _That makes two of us_ , Venomous thought, but didn't say. He nodded in agreement and waited for the bot to elaborate. And waited.

"Explain, please," he said finally.

"Well, normally daddy works best in the morning and goes to bed early, leaving us bots to run the factory at night. But lately he just keeps going! And Fink said that if organics don't get enough sleep, they'll DIE! And, well, he hasn't always been the best daddy, but he's been a lot better and I don't want him to die and I-"

"Darrell!"

The robot flinched.

Venomous got up to lay a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry for shouting, but you were getting a little hysterical." Venomous offered a thin smile. "Being a little short on sleep won't kill Lord Boxman."

Darrell looked up at him, his eye wide and hopeful. "It won't?"

"No. But I am glad you brought this to my attention. Even though a lack of sleep isn't fatal, it is certainly bad for his health. I'll talk to him about it, alright?"

"You'd do that?" Darrell asked.

"I will." He patted the bot's shoulder awkwardly. "I'll take care of it."

It took a couple hours more before he was satisfied with the preening oil he'd created, but hopefully his little gift would sweeten Box's mood enough that he could talk with him about his sleep patterns as well.

Now that Venomous thought about it, he did recall seeing Boxman still hard at work even when Venomous was wrapping up for the day.

He checked with a passing Darrell, then made his way to the workshop where Boxman was currently holed up.

Boxman was asleep on his feet, his face pillowed on what appeared to be unfinished paperwork. Venomous sighed, but took advantage of the opportunity to look around.

The workshop had gotten even messier since last night, Venomous noted with dismay. Papers and scrap metal and circuitry were all jumbled together across nearly every surface. His fingers itched to straighten the pages and sort through the detritus until he established some sort of order, but he didn't want to disrupt his partner's thought process by interfering. He supposed Boxman was a messy sort of person. Really, it was almost charming.

Almost.

Venomous picked up a wrapper for a meal-replacement bar, examining it for a moment. Surely that wasn't too important? The trashcan was overflowing with scrapped designs, perfectly usable in Venomous's mind, but determined somehow faulty by Boxman. He placed the wrapper on top of the pile, letting out a sigh of relief when it stayed put.

Venomous reached out and laid a hand on Boxman's shoulder, allowing himself a moment to close his eyes and bask in the warmth of his touch. And then the moment passed and he forced his eyes open once more. It wouldn't do to be caught like this, after all.

He fully intended to shake Boxman awake, of course, but found himself rubbing circles on Boxman's back instead. He didn't chastise himself too harshly – it did the job well enough.

"PV?" Both his human and robotic eyes seemed to light up with his smile. "Hey, partner!"

Venomous's heart felt like it was fluttering in his chest, all his strategies and carefully planned words scattering like mice.

"Evening Boxy," he managed.

Boxman straightened, apparently none the worse for wear from his nap. Venomous could see signs of strain though, now that he knew to look for them. The faintest hint of a smudge under his eye, a pallor to his skin…

He had lost weight, Venomous realized suddenly. His clothes hung on him, just a bit.

"So, PV, what can I do for-"

"I'm worried about you," Venomous blurted, then winced.

Boxman veered back as if struck.

"Worried? About me? Psssh!" Boxman waved his avian hand dismissively. Venomous could see the ragged state of the feathers. "I'm _fine_ , Professor! Just keeping the factory going! There's only so many hours in the day and we need to keep productivity up, up, up!"

"But you don't!" Venomous protested. "Productivity is still well above average! Cob, even if it wasn't, you have your children who are _more_ than happy to handle the factory while you take some time to yourself." Venomous put his hands on Boxman's shoulders, looking him in the eyes.

"Please, Boxy. I hardly ever see you." Was it manipulative? Absolutely. But Venomous didn't get to level negative seven by playing fair.

"I," Boxman looked down, clearing his throat. "I guess I have been. Overdoing it. A little." As if on cue, Boxman's stomach rumbled. The cyborg blushed. "Heh, sorrey. I have a stash of protein bars somewhere-"

"You need real food," Venomous said, ignoring the hypocrisy in that statement. "You're losing weight, Box."

Boxman chuckled, stepping away. "Gee, PV. I didn't know you cared," he said with a teasing grin.

"Then you haven't been paying attention," Venomous said softly. He drew the bottle of oil from his lab coat, setting it on a nearby desk.

"W-what's that?"

"I made some preening oil for you," Venomous said, giving in and straightening the stack of papers Boxman had been using for a pillow. "Gentler than that… stuff you use." Venomous sniffed disdainfully. "But still effective. With a little something extra to help your feathers grow in well."

Boxman stared at him, mouth agape.

Venomous could feel heat rising to his face and feigned a cough. "It's just… a little something I've been working on," he said, trying to keep his tone casual.

"Oh," Boxman said. "Thank- thank you?"

Venomous nodded, tucking his hands into the pockets of his lab coat, his fingers unerringly finding the packet of lube his over-optimistic self had hidden there last week.

"We should have dinner," Venomous said suddenly, before he could think better of it. "Just you and I. Say, tomorrow? At seven? In the private dining room, by the library."

"Oh! Um, ok." Boxman reached for his avian arm, then seemed to catch himself, letting his arms fall to his side. "I- I think I'd like that. Should I-"

"I'll order us something nice," Venomous said, nearly boneless with relief that _holy Cob that actually worked_. He quickly made his way to the door before he could somehow ruin it, as he was wont to do. "See you then!"

**RESOURCE HOARDING**

_Four Weeks Ago, Professor Venomous's Lair_

"'Cause it's-a som'in kinda good! You're gonna love it! You're gonna wanna put it in your face!"

Venomous stumbled into the kitchen, Fink in tow.

"Howdy, babies," Boxman crowed. "I made some of my famous 'blunch'!" Boxman held out a forkful of... _something,_ not even waiting for a response. "Heaw comes da twain!" he cooed.

Venomous smacked it away.

The kitchen was a Cob damn disaster. Dirty plates, scraps of food, spilled mystery liquids...

The strange tension in his chest that had been building ever since Boxman had moved in with them finally boiled over.

Venomous exploded. The actual words that he said escaped him, though he vaguely recalled shouting something about cleaning up. He just remembered blind fury, enough for him to fully manifest a tail and hiss like an animal.

And then Boxman had just draped his shirt over his head like he was a Cob damn towel rack!

It was rude, and unsanitary, and smelled utterly delectable.

By the time he pulled the shirt off, Boxman was gone - off to shower, from what he'd said. That discomfort in his stomach, that odd tension in his chest had only grown stronger. He had overreacted, he knew that. But Boxman had been living with him for days now, eating his food, wearing his clothes, making himself at home in Venomous's lair... It was just so stressful!

The most stressful part being that it didn't bother him as much as it should have.

Boxman should have been out the door the very first time he ate the leftovers Venomous had been saving, let alone the time he took apart Venomous's toaster for spare parts. And yet Venomous hadn't kicked him out.

"What is this stuff, boss?" Fink asked, poking at- was that a tentacle?

"I. I don't know, actually." Venomous pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes and breathing to center himself. "Don't touch it."

Actually, now that he was aware of the… _food,_ it actually smelled sort of good. Savory. Was that umami?

"But boff, it tafes good!" He opened his eyes in time to see Fink pop another piece of tentacle into her mouth.

Fink, a notoriously picky eater. Eating _that._

Venomous's own curiosity was piqued.

He retrieved the necessary silverware, approaching this more as a science experiment than a meal. He speared a piece of the... blunch. Drew it to his lips. Cob, it looked disgusting. He closed his eyes, popped it in his mouth-

_Delicious._

Tender, slightly fishy, but not overwhelmingly so. A faint aftertaste that was almost tangy, but surprisingly refreshing.

He and Fink ended up devouring the whole thing, Venomous even going so far as to clean the dishes and hide the evidence of their Blunch-hogging crimes.

He sat down in front of his bonsai, intending to calm down and perhaps think up some sort of apology for his behavior. "Everything will be okay," he told himself.

And then, well. Then his lair exploded.

_Yesterday, Voxmore Industries_

"Yes," Professor Venomous said for the third time in as many minutes, "but what is his _favorite_ food?"

Darrell, Shannon, and Raymond exchanged looks.

"Uhh... he sings most when he makes battery soup?" Darrell offered, eager to please as always.

"Yeah, but he never eats it with us," Shannon pointed out.

"Batteries are bad for organics," a passing Ernesto said.

"Oh, and I suppose _you_ know what father's favorite food is?" Raymond sneered.

Ernesto stopped in his tracks, tapping his metal fingers together. "Well, no. But I do know who _would_ know!"

Venomous tried not to get his hopes up. "And who might that be?" Venomous asked.

"Why, his first sentient creation! Mr. Logic!"

And that was how, two hours later, Venomous found himself in the plaza wearing a hat and sunglasses, trying to look inconspicuous.

Fink, the faithful minion that she was, was currently wreaking havoc in Gar's parking lot – not enough trouble to shut down the plaza for an attack, just a little ruckus to draw away some of the attention.

"Greetings. Would you like a mathematically perfect haircut for an affordable price?" Mr. Logic seemed rather mellow for one of Boxman's creations. He wore a faint, placid smile and a long-sleeved tunic.

"Actually, I'm here for a little… information." Venomous fanned out some technos.

Mr. Logic's head spun around a full rotation. "My apologies. I merely run a salon. If you seek information about the plaza, you would do best to speak with Mr. Gar."

Venomous slung an arm about the robot's shoulders, guiding him away from the windows – just to be on the safe side in case the ruckus spread into view. "Oh no, nothing like that," he said smoothly. "I just need to know a little more about a former… acquaintance of yours."

"I do not-"

"A Lad Boxman."

The response was dramatic. Mr. Logic went rigid, his body jolting like he'd been struck by lightning.

"I have put those days behind me," Logic said, knocking his arm away. For the first time, he sounded distinctly unfriendly. "I am a hero now."

"I know, I know," Venomous tried to placate him. "I just need-"

"I'm afraid I need you to leave my establishment."

"No, wait! I just have one question!"

Logic glared at him. "One. Question. Which I may or may not answer. After that, you will leave."

"Deal," Venomous said, tucking the money away. He took a deep breath.

Logic's eyes narrowed. He gripped the barber chair in front of him, metallic digits digging in like he was planning to throw it at Venomous. "Ask."

"What's his favorite food?"

"I. Beg your pardon?"

"Lad- _Lord_ Boxman. What's his favorite food?"

Logic darted to the door, turning the sign to 'closed'. His hands retracted into his arms and were replaced by straight razors. "Do you," he said quietly, "intend to _poison_ him?"

"What? No!"

"There may be no love lost between us, but Lord Boxman is my creator and was, at one time, my friend. Choose your next words wisely." His eyes glowed red.

"Oh for Cob's – I'm trying to _date_ the man, not kill him!" Venomous blushed furiously the instant the words left his mouth.

"Oh." Venomous could almost see Logic processing the words. At last, the razors retracted into his arms, replaced once more by hands as he returned to his normal, placid state.

"I invited him to dinner," Venomous said, shoving his hands in his lab coat pockets. "I wanted information to ensure that it goes well. Or at least as well as it can go."

Venomous waited for Logic to say something – or at least throw him out. As the silence drew on longer and longer, he had to admit defeat. He sighed, turned, took one step-

"Italian. He enjoys Italian food. At least, he did when I knew him." Venomous looked back over his shoulder at the robot.

"Italian, huh?"

"Affirmative. He did not indulge in it often, however, as he was concerned about his weight." Mr. Logic paused, then smiled. "He said it made him puffy, and that he had an image to maintain."

"Would- would lasagna be okay? I know a place that does an amazing beef lasagna. Any food allergies I need to worry about?" Venomous tried to keep it casual, sneaking out follow-up questions and hoping Logic didn't notice.

From his expression, Venomous hadn't been as subtle as he'd hoped.

"No allergies," Mr. Logic said. "And that should be more than satisfactory. Now, out."

"What about-?"

The straight razors made an appearance once more.

"On second thought, I must be going," Venomous said, making a break for the door. As he shut the door to the salon behind him, he could have sworn he saw a faint smile on Logic's face.

It didn't take long to secure the lasagna for later that night – the restaurant was fancy enough that they refused to deliver, but for a customer of Venomous's caliber, they were willing to have something waiting for him at 6:30 sharp to pick up and take back to the factory. Then it was time to reward Fink for her assistance: ice cream and a trip to the arcade – at least until it was time to pick up the food.

If he called Raymond around 6 o'clock with orders to pull Boxman away from his work, well, there was no harm in being thorough.

He'd done some investigation last night regarding Boxman's eating habits and was… _concerned_. Ever since he'd returned to Boxmore – well, Voxmore now – Boxman had been ordering a lot of pre-packaged food. Too much, even factoring in his and Fink's presence. He'd pulled Ernesto's records on groceries, just to be sure, and the difference was clear. That alone was worrying, but the fact that Boxman was still losing weight? That was outright alarming. He found security footage of Boxman sneaking out of the kitchen with entire boxes of protein bars. He'd even snooped in Boxman's bedroom, just to be sure.

Boxman wasn't eating them. The bars were stashed in various hiding spots throughout his quarters, his factory, and – Venomous suspected – his workshop. Had the bars been out in the open, Venomous would have thought Boxman was using them as meal substitutes to enable his recent habit of overworking himself. But the food being hidden told a very different story. It was almost as if Boxman was afraid of the food being taken away. It reminded him of his own candy habit, back at POINT. He'd had little stashes of hard candies everywhere, in case he got cut off and needed a fix.

Apparently, living out of a trashcan for a few weeks had made an impression on the man. Now he was storing up food like a squirrel preparing for winter.

Venomous aimed to put a stop to that. The best way to get Boxman used to the idea of having food available was to institute regular meals. And Venomous planned to enforce that – at least two meals a day, he'd already decided. Three, work permitting.

Venomous set the table and paced as he waited for Boxman to arrive. He apparently didn't own any candles, which was an oversight on Venomous's part. And the only table cloth he could find that fit the small table was a gaudy monstrosity better suited to a picnic, so he forwent that as well. He stuffed his hands in his coat pockets, finding the lube packet again. He pulled it out, wondering if he should toss it, only to stuff it into his pocket when the door to the private dining room opened.

"Sorrey I'm late, PV!" Boxman said, waving his talons dismissively. "Raymond kept distracting me! He kept talking about 'freshening up' and ironing my tux…"

Raymond, over Boxman's shoulder, mouthed something suspiciously like "I tried."

"It's fine," Venomous told them both, "I didn't dress up either." Though that would have been a smart idea too, damn it… "It's just a small, _intimate_ dinner between… partners." He sent Raymond a meaningful look.

Raymond winked and flashed a thumbs up, only to clasp his hands behind his back and whistle nonchalantly when Boxman looked back at him.

"Well, I'll just be going-" Raymond said, "And leave you two lovebirds alone."

"Luh- lovebirds?!" Boxman squawked, face turning red. "Ah… eheh...hu… Kids these days, right? So presumptive. I, ah, hope he didn't, heh… offend you. Or anything."

"Of course not," Venomous said smoothly, despite his racing heart. He pulled Boxman's chair out for him, vaguely recalling etiquette lectures from his early POINT days.

Boxman smiled, his cheeks still faintly pink, as Venomous sat down across from him. "So, ah… What are we eating?"

"Beef lasagna," Venomous said as he removed the cloche with flourish, revealing the steaming plate.

"Ooh!" Boxman leaned in and closed his eyes, taking in the scent. "Ooh hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo!" He opened his eyes once more, absolutely beaming. He clapped his hands together with delight, almost bouncing in his chair. "Why, I haven't had that for _years!_ "

And just like that, all the effort was worth it.

"Oh, this?" Venomous said modestly. "It's just a little thing I picked up from a restaurant that I thought you might enjoy."

Venomous tried not to look too obviously pleased, but it was difficult in the face of Boxman's obvious joy.

"Here, Boxy," he purred, taking the other villain's plate. "Allow me."

He cut a large square of steaming lasagna, Boxman's eyes following the knife hungrily.

"I had debated ordering a few more courses," Venomous lied. "A salad, perhaps... but really, why bother? Sometimes one just wants to... indulge."

He placed the slab of pasta, cheese, and meat on the plate and set it in front of Boxman, serving himself almost as an afterthought.

Boxman tucked in the instant Venomous sat down with his own plate, apple cider bubbling in their glasses.

Boxman's mismatched eyes fell shut at the first bite. He let out a pleased little hum that sent blood rushing to Venomous's cocks like he'd moaned out loud. Venomous gripped his silverware, wishing the simple wooden chairs had arms that he could dig his fingers into - he was afraid that if he moved to actually use said silverware that his hands would be trembling.

"Take a bite, PV!" Boxman urged. "It's delicious!"

"Yes it is," he croaked, then cleared his throat. "I mean, yes, I'm sure it is. Heh. Just. Didn't want to burn my tongue."

"Oh." Boxman grinned sheepishly.

"Carry on eating, though," Venomous said, suddenly worried that he'd ruined the mood.

"Well, if you're sure..." Boxman appeared hesitant until Venomous picked up his own knife and fork to start eating. The ricotta was exactly as creamy as he had remembered, Venomous was pleased to note, and the beef was excellently seasoned, but they both paled in comparison to Boxman's joy.

Venomous had served himself a much smaller piece, but Boxman still finished before him.

"That was amazing, Professor," he said, eyeing the pan still.

"Are you already full?" Venomous asked, allowing just a hint of disappointment to creep into his voice.

"Well, I don't _need_ more," Boxman said, staring at the lasagna longingly.

"Come on, Boxy. _Indulge_ a little." He could see the shorter man's resolve wavering.

"Maybe just a little more," Boxman said, helping himself to another slice.

They talked as they ate - about the bots, the factory, the new preening oil - and Boxman chipped away at his second slice, clearly trying to pace himself.

There would be moments of conversation, and then Boxman would take a bite and stop. His eyes would drift shut, a nearly blissful expression on his face. And then he would swallow and carry on.

Venomous wouldn't go so far as to call it torturous, per se, but his cocks were definitely interested in the proceedings.

"Would you like another slice?" Venomous asked when the conversation lulled.

"I really shouldn't," Boxman said, still eyeing the pan of lasagna. "My belt will be too tight if I eat any more."

Between the glasses of cider, the conversation, and Boxman's display over the food, Venomous found himself saying, "There's an easy solution to that."

"Oh?" Boxman chuckled, "if you have tip for avoiding the temptation of delicious food, please share it!"

Venomous licked his lips, his heart racing. "I could show you."

Boxman cocked his head, clearly thinking it over. "Eh, sure! Why not!"

Venomous stood. He wasn't drunk – wasn't even tipsy – so he had no excuse for when this inevitably went poorly. He came around to Boxman's side of the table, the shorter villain scooting his chair sideways and standing in preparation to hop down to meet him.

"No need to get up on my account," Venomous said. "It really is a simple solution."

Venomous wrapped his arms around Boxman, pressing his body flush against the villain's back and relishing the heat of his bulk. With Boxman standing in his chair, Venomous could bury his nose in that green crest of hair and breathe in the scent of him. He indulged himself only for a moment as his fingers drifted down to Boxman's belt.

"Eh?! Puh-PV…"

Venomous shushed him, unbuckling the belt blindly and tugging if free. "There," he said breathlessly, "Problem solved."

Boxman didn't move. Venomous couldn't quite bear to step away from that delicious warmth. He found himself rubbing circles over that soft, round stomach.

"Venomous…"

Professor Venomous froze, heart turning to ice in his chest. Boxman usually stuck to PV or Professor, so to call him by his name…

"…yes?" His voice came out small and feeble. Was this it? Was Boxman finally about to put his foot down? Venomous braced himself for the inevitable rejection.

"That… that feels good," Boxman mumbled finally.

Hope blossomed in his chest against his will. "Does it?" he murmured, allowing the circles to grow in size. His thumb caught on the edge of Boxman's shirt and, for just a moment, Venomous's fingers were touching his bare skin.

"Oh!" It was more of a gasp than a word. He felt Boxman shiver. "Y-yeah… it feels…"

Venomous bit his lip, pressing his nose into Boxman's neck. This time, when his fingers slid up under Boxman's shirt, it was intentional. He tried to sneakily untuck Boxman's shirt with his free hand.

"W-wait!" Boxman's jaw was smooth and warm against Venomous's cheek. "My clothes have been, heh, kinda loose lately. Don't, ah… I mean, you may not want to untuck…"

"Cob, Boxy," he murmured into Boxman's neck, allowing his lips to brush the delicate skin as he spoke. His pinkie finger brushed against the waistband of Boxman's pants and he groaned, rolling his hips forward and rubbing his cloth-covered cocks against the backs of Boxman's upper thighs.

"Aah…!" He felt Boxman's humanoid hand clench in his hair for a moment, not quite tugging. "PV…"

"Let me make you feel good," Venomous murmured, allowing his tongue to flick out and taste his skin.

"H-ah! Oh- okay…"

Venomous moved quickly, half afraid Boxman would change his mind. His slacks were loose enough around his waist that a little directed nudging was enough to have them sliding down those round hips. Venomous didn't bother pushing down Boxman's briefs, in favor of the more expedient method of just thrusting his hand inside. He moaned when his hand found the surprisingly thick length there – Cob, that would feel so _good_ inside him – and wrapped his long fingers around it for a first tentative stroke.

Boxman whined and then, to Venomous's surprise and delight, shoved his briefs down his thighs.

"PV…"

Venomous dug his fingers into that soft stomach as he began to stroke in earnest, trying to memorize the way it felt in his hand. Hot and velvety and somehow slick, particularly near the base. Venomous mouthed at Box's neck, trying to resist the urge to bite. He wanted to mark him some way, claim him… but short of writing "mine" across his forehead in permanent marker…

Venomous gasped, startled from his thoughts by the sudden friction against his cocks as Boxman ground back against him.

"PV, do you want-?"

Venomous let go, nearly tearing his pants in his hurry to free his cocks.

"Legs together, Boxy," he growled, guiding them between his thighs. He hissed with pleasure when Boxman obeyed, rewarding the shorter villain with faster strokes. It occurred to Venomous that he should have finally put that Cob-damn lube to use, but Boxman's thighs were somehow already slick. Slick and hot and _tight_ , Cob…

"P-professor, is that – oh! T-two?" 

"Mmyeah… Problem, Boxy?" Venomous caved into temptation, nipping at his neck and sucking sharply.

"Oh." Boxman squeezed around his cocks, his hand joining Venomous's own on his length to guide him to something shorter, faster. "Oh, that's… oh _fuck…_!"

Venomous nipped at his jaw, pressed his tongue to the racing pulse point at his throat. He could feel wetness at the base of Boxman's cock and allowed his fingers to drift down to the root, to find the opening it emerged from and dip inside just the slightest-

"Pro- Professor Venomous! Ngh, Cob!" Boxman arched beautifully, his head lolling back on Venomous's shoulder as his hips thrust forward. "Don't tease!"

"It's only teasing if I don't intend to follow through," Venomous purred, thumbing the head of Box's cock even as his other hand slid down from that lovely round stomach to explore Boxman's opening.

 _I was right about the cloaca_ , he thought distantly as he explored the slit-like orifice. It clenched around his fingers, beautifully tight and slick. He slid two deeper inside, slowing his pace on Boxman's cock as he began to work them in and out.

Apparently, Boxman produced his own lubricant, which was equal parts curious and arousing, at least in Venomous's mind. He wondered what it would taste like, imagined burying his face between those thighs, or perhaps licking it off of Boxman's cock…

Venomous added a third finger as he sucked yet another mark into Boxman's neck. He could feel Boxman's moan vibrating in his throat, feel another gush of lubricant drip down from Boxman's hole onto his fingers and cocks.

He yelped as he was suddenly pushed back.

"Boxy?" He could hear the confusion and dread in his own voice. "Did I hurt-"

Boxman spun around and dragged him into a kiss, the chair wobbling dangerously for a moment. Venomous melted into it like hot butter, pressing his tongue inside that delightfully hot mouth to twine with Boxman's own. He pressed closer and Boxman stumbled, knocking a fork to the floor with a clatter. Venomous growled, reaching around the other villain to shove the plates aside and press Boxman back to sit down on the table. He was already calculating how to get around the height difference so he could get that lovely, fat cock in his mouth when Boxman laid back, spreading his legs wide. He braced himself on one elbow, the other hand reaching between his legs to hold open his cloaca, his wrist smooshing his cock up against his stomach.

"Come on, PV," Boxman panted, his cheeks flushed and eyes hooded. "What are you Cob damn waiting for?"

Venomous snapped.

He gripped both of his cocks in one hand, squeezing them together and pressing them into that small opening. Boxman slid back an inch, his body resisting. Box let out a frustrated groan and hooked his knees over the edge of the table as Venomous thrust forward once more. He felt the heads catch at the hole once more, but held firm. He could feel Boxman's hole slowly begin to give and he finally slid inside.

Boxman keened, his talons scrabbling against the table until Venomous caught his hand and lifted it to his lips for a kiss.

"Shh… breathe, Boxy…" he purred.

"Haa... big…" Boxman's human eye looked glazed and his cloaca was clenching around Venomous's cocks like a vise.

"Too much?" he asked, stroking Boxman's stomach and fighting the urge to _thrust_ and _take_.

"Nnno… g-good, PV. Just, hnnn! Just keep going!"

He eased further in, trying to pace himself, to be gentle for once in his life, but Boxman wasn't having it.

"Come _on,_ PV! Fuck me!" Boxman snapped.

Venomous thrust home with a snarl, burying himself to the hilt. Boxman legs tightened around his waist as he keened. Venomous didn't so much as hesitate, pulling out and slamming back in, searching for the right angle. On the third thrust, he found out, judging from the way Boxman howled, that thick cock of his dribbling more pre-come onto the swell of his stomach.

Venomous dug his fingers into those wide hips, pounding into him at that same angle hard enough that the silverware on the table rattled with the force.

"Oh Cob, PV!" He could see tears beading in Boxman's eye. "Don't stop! I'm so close!"

Venomous's teeth dug into his lip as he tried to hold back his own orgasms. He sped up the pace of his thrusts despite himself, the table protesting the abuse, but holding fast.

"So fucking gorgeous like this," Venomous mumbled, running a greedy hand over that soft stomach before shoving Boxman's shirt up to bare more soft, faintly green skin. He slipped his hand up under the shirt to squeeze one of his pecs – soft, but with thick cords of muscle underneath.

Venomous imagined sucking on his nipples, worrying them with his teeth and fingers until Boxman was a squirming, oversensitive mess. He squeezed the soft flesh in his grip until Boxman keened.

"PV! Please!" He followed Boxman's broad tongue with his eyes as the smaller villain licked his lips. "Touch- touch my cock, _please_! I need to- I'm gonna-!"

Venomous felt clumsy as he obeyed, but it only took a couple strokes before Boxman was coming with a wail. He watched the flush in Boxman's cheeks darken and his mismatched eyes clench shut as his orgasm rocked through him until Boxman went limp.

Venomous moaned at the display, his thrusts going ragged. He lifted his hand to his mouth, lapping up the come. He then gripped Boxman's hips once more slamming inside once, twice, then coming, both cocks at once, inside that small, tight body.

He collapsed forward, feeling almost lightheaded, his forehead coming to rest on Boxman's chest.

The angle was awkward and he was sure his neck would be killing him if he remained slumped over for long, but he could feel the rising and falling of Boxman's chest as he caught his breath. His cocks softened and slowly slid free. He should check on Boxman, perhaps clean up the mess but…

He allowed himself a moment to bask in the heat and softness. A moment longer… Just one more…

"PV?"

He straightened reluctantly.

"How are you feeling?" He asked softly, taking Boxman's avian hand and guiding him more or less upright. He cleared his throat, embarrassed at his own softness, and tried to cover it up putting the salt and pepper shakers upright once more, lining up the silverware.

"Heh, I'm fine." Boxman blushed, tapping his fingers and talons together. A shy smile spread across his face. "I feel great."

Venomous found himself flashing his own crooked smile in response, completely artless and sincere. "Good."

"I'm… probably going to be a little, eheh, _sore_ tomorrow, but. Ah. Worth it."

Venomous resisted the urge to preen.

"So, ah, about that…" Boxman's smile faded, the tapping resuming. "Uh, that… was kind of a surprise. Kinda… out of nowhere. You won't, you know… regret it, or anything?"

Venomous took a moment to just stare at the man.

"Box. Do I strike you as the sort of villain to hand-make gifts for just anyone?"

"Well, no, but-" Boxman cut himself off when Venomous took a step closer.

"Or the sort of person who cares about a purely-business partner's work-life balance?"

"Er… no, actually…" He trailed off, mismatched eyes going wide. Venomous inched forward again.

"Do you really think that I couldn't have another house built in a week – or even move into a luxury hotel if I so desired?"

They were nose to nose by now.

"Oh," Boxman said. " _Oh._ "

"I like you," Venomous said, leaning in. "Romantically." Their lips were a hairsbreadth away from touching.

"Oh," Boxman said again, eyes sliding shut. Box closed the gap, pressing his lips to Venomous's own, softly, chastely at first.

Venomous cupped his cheek, tilting his head to deepen the kiss to something slow, but a great deal more passionate. He licked his way into Boxman's mouth, moaning when that broad tongue rubbed against his own. They parted slowly, a thin strand of saliva connecting them for just a moment.

"I like you too," Boxman whispered, like it was a secret. "Romantically, I mean."

Venomous was certain that the smile spreading across his own face was ridiculous, but he was powerless to stop it.

"Would you, ah… like to come back to my room?" Venomous suggested.

"Shouldn't we clean up first?" Boxman said.

Venomous surveyed the mess. Used plates and silverware, salt spilled across the table… No evidence of their more 'adult' activities, though…

"Ernesto will take care of it," Venomous decided. "Take me to bed, Boxy."

Boxman whooped with villainous delight, hopping down from the table, pants miraculously back on. "Don't mind if I do!" Boxman crooned, swooping Venomous into his arms in a bridal-style carry. It wasn't the most masculine method of transport, but he could feel those strong arms holding him securely, Boxman's warmth seeping into his perpetually cool body. He wrapped his arms around Boxman's neck and smiled as Boxman carried him back to his room, cackling all the way.

**ADJUSTMENT**

_Four Weeks Ago, Professor Venomous's Lair_

How was it, Venomous wondered, that Boxman could make a complete mess of his home, destroy his projects, and blow his entire lair to smithereens, and yet still manage to weasel his way back into Venomous's good graces?

It was just a tricycle. A beautiful feat of engineering, yes, considering that Venomous didn't exactly have the kind of tools Boxman was used to. But still, it was just a (souped-up, gloriously destructive) tricycle.

For Fink. For his minion who was bratty and loud and gave every appearance of hating Boxman and wanting him gone. And yet Boxman had made this.

It was ridiculous how such a small act of thoughtfulness managed to sneak past Venomous's defenses. Seeing his minion racing around on the Rat Trike, being up close, being part of the action… It felt good. With Boxman by his side? It felt _right._

They lost, of course, and landed right outside Boxman's old factory.

"Oh Professor… I just wish every day could be like this…" Boxman said. He kept talking, of course – Boxman was a very expressive man – but that statement stuck out to Venomous because in that moment, he finally realized that he felt the same way. He wanted this chaotic man, this _force of nature_ by his side, crushing heroes and wreaking havoc.

That was the moment that Professor Venomous knew he was in love.

_Now, Voxmore Industries_

"PV…" he could hear undercurrents of amusement in the nickname. "PV, I do need to get up sometime today."

Venomous knew he was awake, but he stubbornly buried his face in Boxman's chest, refusing to relinquish his hold. He'd finally gotten the other villain between his 10,000 count sheets and he refused to let him leave now. He felt gentle talons combing through his hair.

"I know you're awake, Professor," Boxman continued, the moniker coming out like an endearment rather than a title.

Venomous nuzzled into the threadbare fabric of Boxman's undershirt under the guise of shaking his head. "Nope, still asleep," he lied.

Boxman snickered and Venomous found himself smiling despite himself. He curled himself around Boxman even tighter in retaliation.

"PV…" Venomous pulled back a few inches reluctantly.

"I'm susceptible to bribery," Venomous offered, palming Boxman's crotch. He could feel the head of Boxman's cock peeking out from his slit – the avian-adjacent's equivalent of morning wood, he assumed.

Boxman went red. "I, well, normally yes. Definitely. But, ah… I am still, er, a little sore." Boxman's voice dropped even further in volume. "I might have gotten a little overenthusiastic," he admitted sheepishly.

"I'm sorry for being so rough," Venomous murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Oh don't be!" Boxman said with a laugh. "I asked – er, demanded – it and it was absolutely worth it. Just, heh, a tad overambitious."

"Well, the offer still stands," Venomous said. "There's a lot more we can do, you know…"

Boxman leered, leaning back against the pillows. "Oh? Did you have something in mind, PV?"

"Mm, I think I do…" He cupped Boxman's cheeks, guiding him into a kiss. He shoved down and kicked off his own boxers, but took his time with Boxman's clothes, easing his briefs down his hips, guiding his undershirt over his head in between long, slow kisses.

He sucked Boxman's tongue into his mouth, smiling when he gasped in response. He broke this kiss, flashing a wink at Box before shimmying down to explore all the soft skin finally bared to his eyes. He had left a few hickeys on Boxman's neck last night, but his shoulders looked neglected by comparison. Venomous decided to start there – nipping at his collarbones, sucking a bruise or three at the delicate area just before it transitioned from skin into feathers. And from there, naturally, he had to move to the other side. It wouldn't do to show any sort of favoritism, after all.

"You realize I'm going to be stuck wearing turtlenecks for weeks now," Boxman said with a laugh. "I thought you didn't like me wearing your shirts."

Venomous bit his shoulder in chastisement, careful not to push any venom into the bite. "Covering them up defeats the purpose," he said, hands already traveling down to Boxman's soft pecs to squeeze and knead at them.

"Possessive, huh?"

"You have no idea…" Venomous replied. From Boxman's delighted expression, it was pretty clear he didn't consider it to be a problem.

Venomous sucked a nipple into his mouth, exploring the nub with his tongue and allowing the forked tips to flutter against it until Boxman moaned.

"PV, come on!"

Venomous released the nipple with a pop, smirking when Boxman melted back into the sheets, panting.

"Something wrong?" he asked, toying with the other nipple still with his fingers.

"Ngk," Boxman said.

Venomous shimmied down further, nuzzling Boxman's stomach and pressing teasing kisses to it.

"PV!" Boxman whined, squirming under him. He felt the head of Boxman's cock brush against his neck as he rolled his hips up.

Venomous scooted down even further, delighted to see that thick cock already fully erect. He had wondered if his mind had exaggerated the girth he'd seen and felt last night, but it was pretty clear now in the light of day that he had not.

Venomous's mouth watered.

"Don't. Move." He pointed a commanding finger at Boxman, who immediately went wide-eyed and still as a statue. Venomous clambered out of the bed, frantically digging through the pockets of his lab coat from last night.

There!

"Uh… Whatcha got there, PV?" Boxman craned his neck.

"Lube," Venomous said, sitting back on the bed, graciously ignoring Boxman's disobedience.

"But- but-!" Boxman cocked his head. "I produce my own…"

"Yes, but I don't."

Boxman stared at him in confusion for a moment before his eyes went wide. " _Ohhh_ …"

Venomous grinned wickedly. Did he _need_ to tear open the packet of lube with his teeth? Absolutely not. It was inefficient and messy. But having Boxman's rapt attention on him, gaze hungry? Well, that made it all worthwhile.

Venomous licked his lips, reaching behind himself to work the first finger inside. It had been quite some time, so he kept his movements slow. He braced himself on one arm so he could lean forward, ass in the air, and lap at Boxman's cock as he worked a second finger inside. He thrilled at the taste of the slick against his tongue – bittersweet, complemented by the underlying musk of his cock.

Venomous hissed as he forced a third finger inside. He was rushing, he knew that, but Cob he was so impatient.

Boxman squeezed his cock and for an instant, Venomous felt blindingly envious, before he realized he was trying to stave off orgasm, not hold that delicious length out of reach. He strained closer, just enough that he could allow the forked tips of his tongue to trail up that thick cock, trace the prominent vein on the underside.

"PV," Boxman hissed, "You're so beautiful…"

It was an odd compliment, but sincere and adoringly said – so much so that Venomous found himself blushing as he removed his fingers and straightened, pressing Boxman back against the bed. He spread his legs wide to accommodate Boxman's generous hips, positioning himself over his cock.

"Like this," Venomous said breathlessly. "Let's do it like this."

Boxman nodded furiously, his hands clasping Venomous's hips to help guide him. He felt the bulbous head of Box's cock pressed against his hole and bore down, groaning as it slowly breached him. He licked his lips, forcing himself to breathe through the delicious strain – on the right side of too-much – before sinking down further. He braced his hands on Boxman's stomach, trying not to take him too fast.

"Oh Cob, Boxy," he moaned. "So fucking thick, _Cob…_ " He shifted slightly, and felt the head scrape over his prostate. He threw his head back, biting his lip, his spine arching. "Fuck!"

The hands on his hips dug in, holding him steady until Venomous unclenched enough to sink deeper until Boxman was fully sheathed inside him. Venomous was honestly a little surprised that both of his cocks were still fully hard, bobbing with every breath they took. He slowly, carefully lifted himself, clenching as he sank down once more.

"Are- are you sure you should be moving?" Boxman asked, his thumbs rubbing circles against his hipbones. "You're really tight."

"Yeah," Venomous said, sinking down again. The word came out breathier than he would have liked. "Feels… _Cob_ , Boxy, you feel so good inside me…" He rocked forward faster this time, moaning when he stumbled upon the correct angle once more. "Oh!"

He could almost see the cogs turning in Boxman's brain as he smiled, those lovely, sharp teeth of his on display. The next time Venomous sank down, Boxman thrust up to meet him, hitting his prostate dead on and grinning viciously in victory.

It was like a dam had broken. They worked together, finding a rhythm that suited them; slow at first, but rapidly gaining speed as that lovely cocked pushed him to further heights of pleasure. He could feel his balls tightening, the pleasure building somewhere near the base of his spine.

"Boxy, I- I'm close!" he choked out. "Fuck, I'm gonna-"

He felt a hand wrap around both his cocks, squeezing them together and clumsily stroking and that was enough to push him over the edge. Boxman didn't take long after, thrusting up into Venomous's suddenly boneless body.

"Mm… Boxy…" Venomous collapsed onto the bed next to him, lazily reaching for the tissues. "That was perfect." His voice sounded dreamy even to his own ears, but _damn_ he'd earned it.

Boxman cackled, tossing the wadded up tissue into the trashcan before cuddling him close, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Venomous wrapped his arms around him once more, pressing his face into the crook of Boxman's neck and letting out a happy sigh.

"Wait…" Boxman craned his neck and squinted down at him. "Wasn't this supposed to convince you to let me get up?"

Venomous smirked and allowed himself to drift back to sleep, tangled up in Boxman once more.


End file.
